Cherub Faces and Cruel Intentions
by missBENNETT
Summary: It must be the Daddy Complex, Sylar muses, that keeps pushing her towards these questionable men. Sylaire, Adelle, and Samanda.


Title: **Cherub Faces and Cruel Intentions**

Rating: T, to be safe.

Characters: Claire Bennet, Gabriel 'Sylar' Gray, Amanda Strazzulla, Samuel Sullivan, Adam Monroe, Elle Bishop. Mentions of Bob Bishop, Peter Petrelli, Brody Mitchum, Lydia, and Noah Bennet.

Summary: It must be the Daddy Complex, Sylar muses, that keeps pushing her towards these questionable men.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Heroes. This would be so much more than a fanfic if I did.

* * *

It must be the Daddy Complex, Sylar muses, that pushes her towards these questionable men. He wonders if, in dreams, she knows what she does to these men, the positions she puts them in, or how truly irresistible she is. He's watching her sleep and he contemplates if he should wake her; she looks so much more beautiful when she puts up a fight. But now she looks peaceful, her supple lips just barely pulled into a smile, and he likes to think that she's dreaming of him. He shuts the window behind him and leans against the wall, wondering how astute this university must be if their security doesn't even notice a man scaling the wall into the girl's dormitories. Still, it's not as thought his little Claire-Bear needs them for protection.

He leans over her, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes peacefully and nuzzles herself against her pillow. Her blonde hair looks so glossy and soft basked in the moonlight, and he battles the urge to reach out and touch it. Her arm is dangling over the edge of her bed, and he admires the curves of her fingers and the tinge of pink at their tips. She looks so warm and innocent, and he realizes that he's never seen her like this before. He decides that this is something he should take advantage of.

Gently, slowly, he reaches out his own fingertips and presses them against hers.

He sees all the men she thinks about, almost jealous that he's not the only one. Of course she sees Noah first a foremost, the father figure she's always known and loved but not quite trusted, the source of all the issues that Sylar can pinpoint in her. There's a flash of a teenaged boy, rough hands and dark eyes, pushing her to the ground before she goes black. He can feel her panic in his bones and tears prick at his eyes, all of her emotions overwhelming him. In this memory she's crying, and in this moment she tells herself she'll never be overpowered by a man again. _Good girl_, Sylar thinks. That's the Claire he knows.

The next man she sees is one that Sylar knows all too well: it's that floppy-haired pretty boy with the do-gooder smile, and it makes Claire melt. She tells him that he's her hero, and all Sylar can think is _He's your uncle, little Claire; even you should know that he's too much of an eagle scout to reciprocate._ Then he considers this possibility: the Petrellis had a history of toeing [no, completely playing hopscotch on] that grey line of questionable moral character. With a smirk he stores this thought into his memory. Perhaps it could be useful in the future. For only the slightest flash, she pictures the face of Samuel Sullivan, the carnival master, in her mind, remembering how he welcomed her with open arms and accepted her into their family. The way she wiped his bloody lip and allowed him to be so close to her, the way she didn't cringe like she had when Sylar had been that close, made his chest swell with jealousy. The carnie was scum; he could see that glint in his eyes that so many men possessed upon seeing Claire in her realest, truest form, that moment they realized that she was a treasure greater than gold and that she was something they needed to have. It wasn't a glint that Sylar himself was unfamiliar with.

Her hand flinched, and the connection was broken as his hand slipped away from hers. Sylar exhaled deeply, visibly frustrated that he didn't get what he wanted. So what if she didn't think of him while she slept? The fact that she dreamed about Peter, Samuel… didn't matter to him. Dreams were for people who couldn't get what they wanted in reality. He was sure by now that Claire had realized that he was something she'd always have, even if she didn't want him there.

After all, one can't say their mind won't change throughout eternity.

* * *

He smelled of rum and popcorn and peppermint candies, and before she'd met him she never cared for the smells of any of those things. Teenaged girls were supposed to like flowery, sugary smells: roses, sugar cookies, vanilla, apple pie. They were supposed to be comforting and be reminiscent of the happy home you grew up in and felt safe in, but for Amanda, those scents had become completely unappealing. It was only when she smelled rum, popcorn, and peppermint candies that she felt safe and at home; it was only when he hugged her and kissed her forehead good night that she felt right. Samuel Sullivan had given her a home, had welcomed her with arms more open than her own mother's had been. He applauded her whenever she controlled her abilities, brought her flowers on the one-week anniversary of when she joined the family, even had a confrontation with a carnival guest who seemed to have difficulties keeping his hands to himself.

"Some men just don't know how to treat a woman, Amanda, especially the ones who deserve to be treated as a queen." He rubbed her back comfortingly as she wiped her tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Amanda smiled, nodding her head in agreement with him. Every word he said was so easy to cling to, always coated with that Irish brogue and more genuineness than most people could muster. He always had such pretty words to punctuate his sentences; she wondered if he was naturally so eloquent or if it was something she could learn as well. He had a magic about him that she'd never seen in any other person, and she felt compelled to spend every free moment near him, just to get a taste of it.

"I want to repay you somehow." She told him one day as they walked through the carnival together, watching children play games and adults walk by in wonderment around them, and Samuel simply smiled at her. His hand rested on her shoulder, holding her beside him so that she didn't get swept up in the crowd. They stopped beside the popcorn booth, Samuel reaching over the countertop and handing her a bag. "My dear, just knowing that you're happy here is payment enough. Don't worry yourself with thoughts of compensation." He took a handful of popcorn from her bag tossing a piece up in the air and catching it in his mouth, causing Amanda to giggle as she looked down into the bag in her hand.

"I feel like there's something I should do, though. I mean, I think it's only fair…" She started, but then trailed off as she realized she didn't quite know how to say what she wanted to. In her mind, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him: _Tell me to do something for you, something that I can't say no to. Something that will make us closer._ But it was something she was too afraid to vocalize, too afraid to be brushed off as a little girl with a desperate crush. She kept looking down at her buttery popcorn in her bag, until a pair of black-nailed fingers rested beneath her chin and tilted her head upwards. There was wisdom, protectiveness in his dark eyes, and a flicker of something else that Amanda was unsure of but still caused a fluttering in the pit of her stomach. "Have faith in your family, Amanda. Know that we will never do you wrong by anything. Your unconditional love is all I… we ask."

She smiled. "Okay."

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Elle."

The young blonde actually entered his cell this time, now eighteen and fully in control of her abilities. Bob warned her to stay away from her secret friend, that he would hurt her and use her and lie to her, but Elle refused to believe it. Adam had been talking to her for six years, telling her stories of old adventures and past glories. She told him what she heard about on TV, what was going on in the modern world. Bob was even letting her leave the building now, and Elle was enjoying her freedom. But her crush on the handsome blue-eyed man never ceased, and now she was old enough to finally act on it.

"Thank you. I'm eighteen now. Can you believe it?" Elle asked excitedly as she sat on the bed beside him. Adam smiled at her presence, looking her over carefully, noting every detail. She'd literally grown up in front of him, from a naïve, sweet child to a beautiful, desirable woman. "It is hard to believe. I remember our first meeting like it was yesterday."

Elle looked shy for a moment before touching his arm gently. "Um, Adam, can I ask you a favor?" She was awkward at flirtation, simply because she'd never done it before. She'd seen the sexpot girls on TV do it a thousand times over, and after watching Aaron Spelling dramas every day for three years, she began to learn how to be 'sexy'. Adam looked down at her hand, "Anything, love. What is it?"

"Kiss me," She said simply. "I've never kissed a boy before, and I want you to be my first." Adam chuckled quietly. The opportunity had presented itself, and it'd been long overdue. He looked up towards the corner of the room where a security camera was pointed at the two of them. "Elle, you must be joking. They're watching us. They'll know."

Now it was Elle's turn to chuckle. "No they aren't, silly! They review the tapes only if something bad happens. And since you've been such a good boy," Elle rubbed his strong arm sensually, "They barely review them. " From her free hand, she shot an electrical spark at the camera wire. Once the camera had short-circuited, she returned her attention to Adam. "I just figured that since you were lonely too, you might like some…" Elle pressed herself closer against him so that their chests were touching, "...Contact."

Remembering that he might never leave his cell, Adam leaned forward and pressed his lips to her innocent and welcoming smile. He wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer, and she rubbed her hands greedily through his hair. Once he began to kiss her harder, she sent a spark through her lips to his. He pulled away in surprise as a tingling sensation filled his lips. Elle giggled like she had at age twelve. "Slow down there, tiger. Save some for tomorrow."

Little did either of them know that tomorrow would be the day that both of them would regret for a very long time to come.

* * *

**another story completed in one afternoon. please review, guys. i really apprieciate it!**


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